


The Road to Hell

by JadeSelena



Series: Opposite Sides: 'missing' Vera/Hamish scenes [2]
Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeSelena/pseuds/JadeSelena
Summary: 'Missing' scene from the beginning of 2x10 after the parlay. Vera/Hamish with mentions of the others (mostly Jack). Vera's had a day and Hamish takes the brunt of it. There are downsides to being the bartender with benefits... Rated T for a few instances of Vera's potty mouth.
Relationships: Hamish Duke/Vera Stone
Series: Opposite Sides: 'missing' Vera/Hamish scenes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924426
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	The Road to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing belongs to me - I just love the show and the pairing. Vera most of all, though :)

Hamish stood and turned towards the familiar clicking of heels in the hall that signaled the Grand Magus' return; raked his eyes over her as soon as the doors opened, searching for injuries logically he knew would long-since be healed. "How did it go?"

Quelling a flash of irritation – and something else she refused to acknowledge – Vera brushed past him on her way to the bar. "Well… I wouldn't agree to Miss Grant's terms so she attempted to use the binding to kill me." Her coat and bag landed unceremoniously on the closest surface. "In other words: _pretty much as I'd expected_."

Anger at Jack for guilting her into the parley was overshadowed only by concern. Moving to her side, he gently freed the crystal decanter from her grasp. "Are you okay?" Not that he thought she'd admit it if she weren't.

"Of course. It's been proven time and again that crossing me is ultimately far more hazardous to the other party's health than it is mine." After a moment, during which she absolutely was _not_ taking comfort in his proximity, she went to sit sideways behind her desk, left arm resting upon it and nails tapping rhythmically. "And yet some people _still_ decide to take the risk. Doesn't that strike you as absurd?"

Hamish froze mid-pour, her tone that scary level of casual that told you it was anything _but_. He'd guessed she realized he was responsible for the failed raid by her harsher than usual treatment since, but still, his heart was racing when he faced her again.

"Piece of advice, Mr. Duke…" She held his gaze as he awkwardly held the drink out between them. "When there are only a few tongues capable of doing the wagging it isn't all that difficult to determine which one it was." Snatching the glass away from him, she dropped her voice to a low growl. " _Be grateful I don't cut it out and feed it to one of your little friends_."

"If you did that you wouldn't be able to enjoy its benefits anymore…" Her pursed lips said she was thoroughly unimpressed by the joke – or his attempt at a charming grin – and he let out a panicked, "They truth potioned me, Vera. _Grand Magus_."

"Oh?" She raised a pert eyebrow; took a long, slow sip before idly wondering, "Was it the kind that erased all memory of breaking my trust, thus preventing you from warning me I was about to look a fool in front of Council for being unable to conduct a simple raid on our most dangerous enemy?"

So much for plausible deniability… He considered confronting her about the Tartarus eruption but decided going on the offensive right now probably wasn't the best tact to take.

That's what she'd thought… "If there's nothing else, Mr. Duke, I've had a very long day and I predict the coming ones will be even longer." A bone-deep weariness had set in that had nothing to do with how little sleep she'd been getting lately.

The brusque dismissal stung like an enchanted blade. At least when she'd been feigning ignorance it hadn't felt _permanent_ … "You don't even want to know why?"

"Not in the slightest." Reclining in her seat, she crossed one leg over the other and looked up at him with cool detachment. "You see, after everything I have done to save your mangy hides there is no reason I would find even _remotely_ acceptable. Allowing Praxis to escape. And with the rest of my inventory, no less."

Hamish forced himself to meet her icy stare. "In our defense, you stole our memories and all _our_ inventory. It doesn't exactly inspire loyalty." Though some of them held more of a grudge than others.

Was he fucking kidding her? "Setting aside the fact that I didn't _skin you all alive_ _for robbing me,_ " she hissed, leaning forward menacingly. "Did you ungrateful idiots miss the part where the alternative – to living a blissfully ignorant life, boo fucking hoo – was _death_? Council didn't just want the Knights disbanded but _dispatched_. Kepler especially was out for blood, after _you…_ " The hand that wasn't cradling her drink mimed a vicious clawing. "…Took her eye."

Her wrath couldn't keep his lips from twitching into an affectionate smile; delivering a soft yet pointed, " _You_ said no killing."

She frowned at the unwelcome reminder. "Yes, well… we all have regrets." Some more than their fair share… Pushing the depressing thought aside before she could drown in it, she returned to her rant. "And since 'your wolves' thought it wise to give you _back_ your memories…" The air quotes conveyed her skepticism in _that_ story. "…I've had to quite blatantly play favorites – something that goes against _every_ fiber of my being – just to make it clear that your flea-bitten little pack is off limits. Losing the confidence of Council and respect of my disciples and _very nearly_ my position in the process." And all for what?

"It wasn't about you," Hamish defended quietly, once again somber. "It was a trade, to get Lilith's hide locker back. To try to get _Lilith_ back." That had to afford them _some_ leniency.

"I see." Vera ignored the part of her that was relieved she hadn't fallen prey to wishful thinking – that it _hadn't_ been for something trivial – because it didn't really matter. _Shouldn't_ , anyway… "I know Mr. Morton was eager to earn his way back into Miss Drake's 'good graces,' but did you even stop to consider the possibility that the locker be recovered _in_ the raid? That we might have realized all of our goals in one fell swoop?"

He both hated and admired her ability to make him feel two inches tall even as he towered over her… "There was no guarantee it would be there. We have to assume Salvador would be smart enough to keep the lockers hidden away somewhere."

"Hmm. And unless you were smart enough to get the locker _beforehand_ …" She paused to give him the opportunity to protest they _had_ ; rolled her eyes when he failed to. "…There was no guarantee Miss Grant would fulfill her end of the trade." The woman had since proven less than beholden to her word.

"She returned all of them," Hamish assured her – more to save face than defend the Praxis leader's honor – even though he knew that hadn't been her point at all. "The deal had already been made, Vera; all I could do was help them or not." Before she could tell him the correct answer was 'not,' he rushed to explain himself. "I'm under a lot of pressure, trying to balance my responsibilities to both the Order and the Knights. Randall already thinks I'm your lapdog."

Vera let out a brittle laugh. "And all _my_ people think I'm a big ole werewolf-loving traitor…" Draining her glass, she presented it in tacit command. "I wonder, Mr. Duke… Where would the Knights be if I were the 'path of least resistance' type?"

He wrapped his fingers around hers, eyes begging her to understand. "And I have been putting up with a lot of shit from them. But this is about _Lilith_ …"

"I told you I would help you get Miss Bathory back when the time is right," she countered, staring him down until he released her. Hated herself for immediately missing the contact. "But you couldn't practice a little something we mature adults call _patience_ , could you? _No_. You elected to prolong this war – increasing the likelihood of an apocalypse eruption and forcing me to resort to drastic measures – on the off chance you could rescue your friend from a situation of her own making."

It was a tossup which inflicted more damage: the rejection, the (blunt yet not inaccurate) indictment, or the sheer callousness. Grateful for the cover of making her drink, he focused on the third because he wasn't able to dispute the others. "That's not fair – we're as much to blame as she is."

Vera hummed her agreement. "A misguided and ridiculously short-sighted quest for revenge and power that almost brought about the end of the world. And now, instead of learning from that mistake and helping me contain _this_ potentially world-ending problem, you boys want to double down and breech the demon realm while magic is at its most vulnerable." She waited until he turned back so he could feel the full weight of her disappointment. "Honestly, I would expect this from the others. But you?"

Hamish handed her the tumbler, brow furrowed. "Why? Because I'm sleeping with you?" That wasn't fair, either.

" _Was_ ," she corrected tersely. "In case you haven't caught on yet, Mr. Duke, while I'm permitting you to keep your tongue, your access to both my office and my person has been revoked." She'd been stupid to offer them in the first place. _Fool me twice, shame on me._

There wasn't a doubt in his mind she meant it. "Vera, please…"

" _Because_ I thought you were a leader. Though I suppose being able to make the hard choices is a lot to ask of someone who regularly allows his decisions to be made via beer pong and declarations of 'Not it!'" The accompanying jazz hands fell flat, partly because she was holding the glass but mostly because she just didn't have the energy. "Alas, those of us responsible for the fate of civilization don't have the luxury of being able to operate our secret societies like a frat house."

It was a beat before the intended embarrassment was replaced by something akin to anger. God, she was patronizing. And _hypocritical._ "Is that what connecting with the Sons of Prometheus was? A hard choice? You put all of the Order's secrets at jeopardy…"

Vera's eyes narrowed. "I am not an overreaching novice meddling in inter-realm travel, Mr. Duke. Rest assured, the Prometheans learned _only_ what I wanted them to learn." She'd spent years training in defense against mental attacks and _decades_ mastering the suppression of certain thoughts and memories. Though only one of those was in relation to magic.

"And if it hadn't convinced them?" he pressed, knowing damn well it wasn't as simple as she made it out to be. "They could just as easily have killed you, too, for that stunt you pulled. And then where would civilization be? Depending on some washed-up teen heartthrob to save it?"

She had to forcibly unclench her jaw at the thought of that half-pint wannabe-thespian running her Order into the ground. "I had a good read on Xavier; the risk was negligible."

Hamish shook his head. "Even if I believed you, I don't believe you would have _taken_ it – or bared your soul like that – if it hadn't been Jack's life on the line." She was too practical. And too _guarded_.

The accusation took Vera by surprise but she recovered quickly. "Good thing it doesn't matter _what_ you believe, disciple. And until you or one of your colleagues accidentally starts a war with a rival faction and implicates me in blood atonement, that's _all_ it is: your belief." Her tone carried a dangerous lilt, done with the inquisition.

The flinch she'd failed to hide told the truth she _wouldn't_ … Crouching in front of her, Hamish held his hands out in conciliation. "I understand. I do. For whatever reason you consider him a son and you couldn't bear to lose him after losing…"

"Do _not_ finish that sentence," she ordered over the sudden tightness in her chest, resisting the urge to kick out and knock him on his 'understanding' ass.

"Come on, Vera," he gently urged, only wanting to prove his point. "You can swear you were protecting the Knights until your face is as blue as your rose but we both know who you were really protecting. At least at first." Delusional or not, he liked to think that had changed.

Vera's jaw clenched anew. "Maybe rather than questioning my motives your time would be better spent thanking your lucky stars I didn't anticipate how much trouble you all would end up causing me." Her menacing eyebrow became a disparaging head tilt. "And are you _seriously_ complaining that I didn't kill your friend?"

"Of course not. I just…" He'd never met anyone who wielded scorn as a weapon as expertly as she did; had to force himself to continue. "Don't get me wrong: Jack's like a brother. But that was the very _definition_ of 'situation of his own making' – three times over, even – and you still rode to the rescue. If it were him stuck in the demon realm we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"You're right," she agreed wryly, "Because he wouldn't have been here to broker your shady little deal with the idiots trying to trigger an apocalypse…" Given what she'd learned recently it was an assumption she was comfortable making. Unfortunately the sharp pang of… whatever… that came with it was decidedly less comfortable.

Hamish lifted his shoulders in an overly casual shrug; offered, " _Or_ because you'd have already found a way to get him back…"

Vera studied him a second, lips pursed in contemplation. "I have to say, Mr. Duke: this is beginning to sound less like you pleading your case and more like a case of sibling rivalry."

"What?" He'd managed to withstand her myriad other attempts at deflection (slash intimidation), but no way could he let something _that_ cringe-worthy go unchallenged. "Okay, _one_ : please don't ever put it like that again…"

She met his (annoyingly endearing) expression of disgust with one of feigned confusion. "You just said he's like your brother…"

"Because of the _Knights_ , not in relation to you." _Never_ in relation to her. In fact, he worked very hard to keep his relationships with each of them separate in his mind _specifically_ to avoid accidentally making that association. "That's just…" He shuddered inwardly.

"That's just what?" she prompted, as though she were truly naive.

Whether it was because she was enjoying fucking with him or that she thought she'd finally won he couldn't be sure, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye where before there had been only flatness. It gave him the courage to slowly trail his fingertips down her calf as illustration. "That's just…" Slide her shoe off with a barely perceptible shake of the head. " _Absolutely not._ "

Vera would have mocked his lack of articulation but the sensual kneading of her foot got his point across quite nicely. She found something else to (somewhat breathily) mock instead: "Was there a 'two' or did you just forget how counting works?" That might have been projection, though, because if he kept _that_ up she was in very real danger of forgetting herself.

Hamish hesitated, not wanting to risk the progress he'd (thought he) made but sensing it was one of those 'speak now or forever hold your peace' moments. Careful to keep his tone non-confrontational (and his ministrations away from her ticklish spots), he bit the bullet. "Seeing as you brought it up… It's hard not to be jealous when he says and does whatever he wants yet his opinion _still_ seems to be the only one that matters to you."

There was a rebuttal on the tip of her tongue but she forewent it for a snarky, "And you believe yours should, _why_? Because I'm sleeping with you?"

_Touché_. Her use of the present tense was probably less a reflection of reality than it was her repeating him from earlier so he wouldn't take it to heart. "I don't believe it _should_ , no, but that it _doesn't_ hurts. And your connection with him just makes you insisting on keeping me at arm's length that much worse."

Vera was going to attribute her (involuntary) softening to the amazing things he was doing with his hands and _not_ the sentimental drivel he was spewing from his mouth… Unwilling to tell him she'd had Miss Dupres bring her bag to the raid expressly _because_ his opinion mattered (only _partly_ because that would defeat the entire purpose), she settled on something that wouldn't make her want to wash her _own_ mouth out with soap: "Need I remind you of _why_ you were able to provide the information?"

"Need I remind _you_ that the last time I tried to share my feelings you accused me of being under the influence of a behavior-altering parasite and ordered me to _literally_ keep my distance?" He still had the scars from that one.

Okay, that hadn't been her best showing but she'd had worse. And she'd had _reason_ : "Your little 'Hulk, Smash!' impersonation had all but ensured my defeat – I wasn't exactly in the mood for a heart-to-heart." She ignored the little voice in her head that suggested she hadn't exactly been thrilled with the insinuation he was unhappy, either.

Hamish flinched at her over-simplified version of events. "I was trying to _protect you._ " God forbid she take mitigating circumstances into account. Then _or_ now… "Cutting me off for something you would've done yourself is just another example of you pushing me away."

Something she needed to occasionally remind _herself_? That refusing to let him get close was to protect _him_ , in the long run… Not that she was grateful for it, but his betrayal actually had a silver lining; cutting him off completely appeared to be the only way to accomplish what keeping him at arm's length had clearly _failed to_ and she didn't seem to have the strength to do it otherwise… Resolved not to let him wear her down, she mustered her willpower and all the condescension at her disposal. "Ah, but _I_ would've found a less destructive way to do it. Maybe if you'd discussed it with me first…"

"I considered it. I did." He hadn't wanted to do to her what he'd taken umbrage with the guys for doing to _him_. "But you would have had to try to stop us. So really…" Switching his attention to her other foot, he adopted a wheedling tone. "…If you think about it, I was saving you from having to make a hard choice when you already had so much on your plate." _That_ , and he was fairly certain the saying 'It's better to ask forgiveness than permission' had been coined specifically with her in mind…

Vera rolled her eyes – part disbelief, part amusement – at the desperate attempt. "Are you done?"

Every instinct he had was screaming at him to quit while he was ahead but he'd been beating himself up the entire time she was gone, wishing he'd put up more of a fight and praying it didn't become one of _his_ regrets… "I'm not, actually. Because more than jealous, I'm _worried_."

Self-loathing for providing him the opening battled morbid curiosity in a quest for dominance. " _Dare I ask_?"

Hamish held her gaze, his expression troubled. "He almost got you killed tonight, Vera; I know he didn't mean to but _you_ have to know it had as much to do with Alyssa as it did finding an alternative to the _Obcidione Caedo_." He stopped short of directly questioning her own judgment for going along with it. "I don't want you to end up getting hurt because his allegiance is torn." In any sense of the word.

The implication was not so subtle that she missed it, and the walls she'd been struggling to maintain were instantly rebuilt. "Your concern is touching," she muttered sarcastically, reclaiming her foot and tucking it beneath herself, "But I assure you, wholly unnecessary; I have no illusions regarding Mr. Morton's loyalties and where they lie." _'Jack Morton was right… you'll never give up.'_

She'd turned towards the fire, a million miles away, and he knew it was already too late. "Vera…"

Vera blinked free of the memory and faced him again, mask carefully in place. "If it's any consolation, he's not only been cut off but also 'benched,' as he so eloquently put it."

"What?" It vaguely registered that he'd ruined the mood for nothing. "When did that happen?"

When he'd accused her of harboring a personal vendetta against his girlfriend for refusing to capitulate to dangerously ignorant terrorists… "Armistice is no longer an option. I can't afford to have him in a position to sabotage me when he has to _actually_ pick a side."

So many thoughts hit Hamish at once: that while he didn't want to believe his friend capable the guy _had_ been willing to abandon Lilith to save Alyssa, that the out of nowhere confrontation about the raid suddenly made _sense_ , and, most depressingly, that Vera had agreed to the parlay not because she trusted Jack's judgment but because she'd trusted that if he were forced to choose it wouldn't be _her_. That she'd knowingly risked her life to try to avoid it… "I'm sorry, Vera."

She waved away the unwanted pity. "No matter. Now I can move forward with my original plan, able to say I tried the peaceful route."

"You know that's not what I meant…" Putting a hand on her leg he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. Not now."

_Now,_ when she'd been reduced to employing the same lethal scare tactics she'd disavowed and her most reliable disciple was a superficial acolyte who'd already betrayed her once before. Oh, how the mighty had fallen… "I think you need to examine who shut whom out _first_ , Mr. Duke. Now if you'll excuse me, I have preparations to resume." This time her disdain had nothing to do with the _Fors Factoram._ Swiveling her chair towards her desk, she simultaneously dislodged him and put an end to the conversation.

Hamish knew she was serious – that he'd exhausted her patience, at least for today – when the doors opened. Standing with a resigned sigh he went to refill her glass; quietly offered, "I did some more research on the Cretian Loom while I was waiting for you. With what I found you should be able to use it to seal an apocalypse eruption."

If she weren't currently all out of fucks to give Vera would probably feel bad about how she'd dismissed his efforts earlier without explanation. "You realize that would merely be a temporary solution? If Miss Drake allows Praxis to continue distributing magic to tourists – which I am confident she will, just to spite me – we'd only find ourselves in the same situation within a few months. With countless more Tartarus eruptions and deaths in the interim."

Her voice was eerily detached, as though none of the last few hours had transpired, and it scared him how easily she buried everything because there was no way it could be healthy. "I know, but it can't hurt to have a backup plan."

Vera lifted an eyebrow. "Well, look at that: it seems you _are_ capable of behaving like a true leader on occasion…" Opening her journal she motioned for him to set down her drink. "Leave it and I'll have a look later." She didn't really need to sleep, anyway.

Hamish placed the bookmarked tome next to the tumbler and was halfway across the room before he changed his mind and spun on his heel. "Vera…"

" _You know_ ," she interrupted without glancing up from her work, "For months Kepler has been gleefully predicting that my 'pets' would turn on me…" Ceasing her scribbling, she locked her gaze onto his; dryly congratulated, "Thanks to you three she can finally say she was right about something." Too late Vera realized she'd played _herself_ , what had begun a ploy to keep him from talking _ending_ a painful lump in her throat and the undeniable urge to cry. She blamed it on the thought of just how (much _more_ ) insufferable Bitsy would be once she found out…

"I haven't turned on you, Vera," Hamish swore, his feet taking him back to the desk almost of their own volition. "I would never."

Vera lifted a hand in warning. Put it back down before he could notice it was unsteady. "You wouldn't be the first to make me a promise you didn't keep – hell, you wouldn't even be the first this _week_ – so you'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

He shook his head. "I'm not them, Vera. You can't punish me for what they've done." Not Jack _or_ anyone else. "It's not fair."

He certainly was preoccupied with the concept of fair. " _Life_ isn't fair, Mr. Duke. The sooner you accept that, the better equipped you'll be to deal with its _many_ disappointments."

The hidden message hurt less than the waver he heard in her voice. "We didn't mean to disappoint you, Vera." Not even Randall, for his incessant complaining. All their talk had been of betraying the Order, studiously skirting the fact that _she_ was who they were really betraying.

Shrugging, she picked up her glass. "Well, you know what they say about the road to hell…" Lifted it in a sardonic toast. "I guess we'll all see each other there. Have a good night, Mr. Duke."

Hamish had no idea how he was supposed to win a fight that wasn't really his; all he could do was hope she gave him the chance to prove her wrong… Giving her a last imploring look – which she ignored – he took his leave with a tight, " _Grand Magus."_

Vera stared at the doors long after they'd closed behind him, nursing her drink and trying to find a way to convince herself anew that it was only _him_ she was trying to protect.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Couple of niggling questions:
> 
> -Is the Temple Magus automatically the Chancellor or is Vera just that much an overachiever?
> 
> -Where in the hell does she find the time (and energy) to run the Order *and* a school?
> 
> -Is there some secret passage between the Temple and the admin building or does everyone just ignore the fact that she apparently spends all her time in the Research Library?
> 
> -What do I have to do to get Maddox in Vera's care, like, ASAP? I swear I will ignore whatever convoluted reasons the writers have to come up with if it gets me the dramedy gold of Vera also juggling a kid, Jack with his brother, and the dynamic of the three of them together...
> 
> Can't wait for season 3!


End file.
